POVs: Who Am I?
by Cosmina Inspira
Summary: The burgeoning thoughts of a possible new life, a gargoyle clone, and what it might become. (One shot.)


Secret Origins

Who Am I?

By Cosmic Inspiration

Disclaimer: The Gargoyles animated series is the property of the Walt Disney Company and its affiliate Buena Vista Entertainment. No copyright infringement is intended here nor authorized by the copyholders, this fan fiction author only writes for fun and entertainment of this beloved animated series. All original characters are the property of the author Inspiration.

Author's note: This is a short story I hope can keep my readers entertained while I work on my next stories is my sagas. I wrote it in a single day at work to help clear the cobwebs that keep filling up my brain with ideas faster than I can write down. It is about a character close to my heart and has already made her brief debut, but her full story has yet to be completely told and I hope you can guess who she is. Enjoy.

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Ever since that first moment of hearing the echoing crack of a shell and breaking free from a tight enclosed prison with nothing but silent darkness as a companion with the first stirring signs of thought and consciousness, new experiences, new sensations, and new memories continuously bombarded a delicate new mind in quick need of learning rapid adaptation.

Every moment was as fresh as the last, a lifetime of experience in its own right. For a new life it is both invigoratingly exciting and perilously frightening, especially when you cannot yet fully understand what it all means.

Next came a blinding light that seemed unbearably excruciating to new young eyes that took in everything they could glimpse with naïve curiosity to then fall upon one being immediately understood to be someone more, someone to be a guide and obey.

Instinct had now come through thought and consciousness to now become a growing cognitive self awareness.

And yet, these first few moments of new life were the happiest compared to the near abusiveness the new hatchling had begun to endure with continuous harsh training and the threat of punishment when she disobeyed.

Her master, a being of homely chiseled features, soulless grey eyes with a malicious gaze that froze her heart, always draped in a crisp yet stiff white jacket with a bleached texture, and a voice like spiders crawling all over greasy oil, a man she had learned quickly was to always be obeyed unless she wanted to be beaten.

He teaches her everything she needs to know and he makes it clear her very existence is all because of him, so she owes him everything or he will unmake her.

As time passed, she learned much from her master, such as the names and uses of things, which soon led to speaking and forming proper full sentences, all before she was a week old.

Yet despite her growing eidetic memory, which proved difficult at first to control with lack of experience and discipline, nights seemed to blur together, one just as harshly demanding and exhausting as the last until she got something perfect before being forced to move on to a more difficult task.

As the ever demanding rigors of her training continued, she grew stronger, tougher, and more in stamina, as well as grew in size and quickly aged from an innocent hatchling to an impulsive adolescent in a matter of weeks, then to a young adult in just under a few months. And in all that time, her master remained the same as he always did, as though he must be immortal.

During dark time she was active, and for a mysterious reason she became frozen in a petrifying prison similar to those first moments she could recall. Her master called it stone sleep, and reassured her it was nothing unpleasant, but if she ever disobeyed him again he could crush her easily during a time he called the day, and smiled maliciously as he said it would be a shame to waste something so beautiful and perfect.

Stone sleep at first had been something to get used to, for it was so like those first few moments of life of having to break through a hard shell in the awaking moments of consciousness to a need for freedom.

It was freezing in stone sleep each morning's dawn that had been unnerving at first, and no matter how hard she tried to resist it just to catch a glimpse of the ever evasive light of the Sun, stone sleep still claimed her in its paralyzing grip.

Ironically, many nights will pass where she would long for the silent isolation of stone sleep, for she felt most free from her master's twisted cruelty and experienced strange sensations of a waking reality seemingly all her own, yet to then only be cruelly ripped away by the instinct to awaken at twilight's summon.

For her whole life it was nothing but training and her master's cruel taunting and threatening if she did not obey him, yet it was greatly contradicted when he expressed pride at her accomplishments, always saying she was superior, better, and almost perfect in every way.

In a way she knew this to be true, for she had enough strength to knock down an entire wall with only a single punch, or claw her way through steel two feet thick in a matter of seconds; her speed and agility allowed for the quickest reaction time to even dodge the firing of a laser weapon with the smoothness of ten cats; her senses were so sharp, she could hear the skittering of ants below the surface or a rat squeaking half a mile away, a sense of smell so acute, she could tell what her master had for breakfast a week ago, and she could see every detail of her surroundings even on a moonless night.

Her wings were so strong, she can take off into the air with the most minimum of energy to flap just to get airborne, and she can even hover so slightly and easily in the lightest breeze. Her wings that worked like an eagle gliding upon the winds of the highest mountains with the graceful speed of a falcon.

And yet with all of her abilities, her greatest one might be her regenerative power, for no matter how fatal an injury she received, it healed in a matter of seconds, or minutes for the worst of her wounds. This ability made stone sleep almost needless.

Even her intellect had its moments of impressing her master when she was presented with a difficult task that required more thinking than force of strength, such as decoding the numerical lock on a high security door or overcoming a complex series of motion laser sensors. Her master would always say she had twice the brain power of any of her kind.

And that was what she began to wonder deeply about. Her master never said the name of her kind, a creature with wings, a tail, sharp talons, and eyes that would glow red when she felt great rage.

Though she knows to obey her master, her growing intellect, and maybe something more, is beginning to question it all.

Who or what is she really?

Why did master create her?

Why does he always say she must always protect him because it is her duty?

THE END


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